


weaving red strings

by megamegaturtle



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Red String of Fate, love square
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5136974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megamegaturtle/pseuds/megamegaturtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To weave is to intertwine, so let's tie these lives together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	weaving red strings

She’s sketching a new design–something small enough for a kwami to wear in the approaching season–when she hears fabric rip with a screeching tear followed by the inevitable  _oh snap_. Pencil still in her mouth, Marinette jerks her head up to see an apologetic Nino and a slightly disgruntled Adrien staring at his sleeve. If he was someone else, say Chloe, he would have made a scene despite the close bond he shares with his friend, but he’s not; Adrien is far too polite and caring, qualities that Marinette admires.

“Sorry, dude…” Nino says weakly, ducking a hand behind his head to rub his neck nervously.

Adrien breathes deep, a huff of air deflating his cheeks. “No, it’s fine. Accidents happens,” he says with a small sigh as he examines his shirt.

But Marinette knows it’s not fine, she knows for a fact that is one of Adrien’s favorite–if not most favorite–button up shirts, a go-to he wears whenever he can. Despite all of his family’s wealth, he still clings to things–like “presents” from his father–and that makes her heart ache both out of pity and in fondness

Looking around the classroom, she’s glad that Chloe isn’t here. She’s off somewhere with Sabrina instead of using her free period more wisely, but neither is Alya as she’s snooping for Ladybug’s current whereabouts.

 _Ladybug doesn’t rest, so neither do I_ , she remembers Alya’s words as she headed out. The words _I’m right here!_ were on the tip of her tongue, wishfully hoping that one day she could tell her friend the truth, the need to tell someone about her other persona gnawing at her heart.

Marinette shakes her head, tucking away those feelings of guilt to examine at another time. She focuses her attention on the here and now instead of an unknown future. Yet if Alya were here, she would know exactly what to do and say. Alya, without a doubt, would have encouraging words like  _You can fix that in a flash_ or  _It would make Adrien happy if you stitched that right up for him_. And though her best friend isn’t there, but Alya prevails once again, reminding Marinette that she loves to make people happy more so than she likes to be flustered in front of her crush.

 _Even if other people don’t know who I also am_ , Marinette thinks,  _I can still do something to change this._

With a swallowed breath, Marinette closes her sketchbook and sets down her pencil. Pushing back her seat, she realizes that neither Adrien nor Nino have noticed that she’s walked down the step, both boys trying to figure out what to do about the shirt. From the purse at her hip, she hears Tikki give a small gasp, almost as if reading her mind about what she’s going to do.

As if Alya is right there, Marinette clears her throat a bit, trying to be polite and not intrude. “Excuse me,” she says softly from where she stands three paces back.

But neither boy acknowledges her, so she tries again. _Louder,_  she thinks. Her attempt falls on deaf ears. Tikki cheers her on, her little shout only heard by Marinette. So, for a moment, Marinette pretends she’s Ladybug, wearing bright red spandex and all, as she moves forward and taps Adrien on the shoulder.

He jumps, startled by the sudden contact and a part of Marinette laughs because she’s lost count of how many times he’s surprised her out of the blue. As he turns around, his shocked expression drifts away as he offers her a small, dazzling smile.

“Marinette,” he says, causing her heart to flutter because he looks happy to see her, his eyes twinkling as he realized who it was. “What’s up?”

_You can do this!_

“Actually,” she hums, still braving on as if she is Ladybug right now, “I think I can help you.” He blinks, his brows furrowing together as he stares up at her from his seat, not clearly understanding what she’s saying.

It is in that pause that her fake Ladybug mask drops and she’s just Marinette again as she begins to stumble over her words.

“Um–I can sew, you know…because I want to be a designer,” she rushes, her face turning red as the words spill out of her mouth. “And designers can stitch–and!–we can sew….” she finishes lamely, all the confidence she had before this encounter draining from her.

Nino, though, he understands as her words make sense to him, a smile so wide Marianne feels like his face will split in two. “Oh yeah!” he exclaims as she clasps Adrien on the shoulder, “Marinette can fix your shirt, dude. She has amazing stitch work!”

And if there is one moment throughout her entire life until now that Marinette wishes to sear into her brain, it is  _this_. Adrien is so thankful and joyful that it lights his gorgeous face, radiant and bright. He looks so happy, so pleased that she wishes that time could just stand still for one extra second because she wants to appreciate this moment. Knowing that just simply stitching a torn sleeve for him causes this much elation makes her heart sing with affection and her head light with lovesickness.

But it’s the way he speaks, so cheerful and relieved, that makes her almost melt into a puddle where she’s standing. “You’re the best, Marinette!”

* * *

 

He’s jumping over rooftops, happy and carefree as he leaps through air, tasting a cool Parisian night. Lights glimmer below him, lighting the path and guiding wayward ones back home, to a soft bed and a place to call home.

“Slow down, Chat!” he hears Ladybug call for him, her voice hot on his heels as he continues to run in this world that just seems like it’s built for the two of them.

“I can’t, my lady!” he shouts over his shoulder, a cheeky grin etched into his face. “Don’t you know nighttime is when I feel the most alive?”

But gradually, he slows and waits for her proudly as he stands on the edge of a flat roof, enjoying the sights from below. From his spot, he sees couples walk hand in hand down a popular avenue. A girl with bright red hair, she can’t be much older than he is, laughs and buries her face into her boyfriend’s shoulder, her laughter clear.

“They’re cute, aren’t they?” Ladybug says dreamily, more romantic that he’s heard her speak before.

His heartbeat thuds against his ribs, pounding harder than the run he just did. He feels tongue tied– _cat got your tongue?_ –unsure what to do with a romantic and girlish Ladybug.

“And,” he starts, trying to gain momentum to be cool, “you like cute?”

Beside him, Ladybug snaps her attention to him, her face bewildered as she soaks in his words.  But then her she smiles and laughs, sweet and real, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she finishes giggling. “Oh Chat,” she tells him as she leans a hand on his shoulder, gasping for air as she tries to calm down. “I’m not always saving Paris.”

Chat Noir is hyperaware of her fingers on his shoulder, the simple touch warming him to his bones and he’s positive that if she wasn’t holding on to him, he would float away. Before she can take her hand away though, he places his over hers, craving for just one moment of this casualness between them.

He can’t help but bring her hand to his lips, the need to still be connected to her driving him forward. “And what do you do when you’re not rescuing these lovely citizens?”

Ladybug rolls her eyes, and steals her hand back, but after she gives him a playful smack. Her eyes are mischievous, a rare mood for her so he hopes his good mood has been infectious. A coy grin graces her perfect lips and she puts both hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teases.

But Chat can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face, drunk off this moment. “I would.”

Her smile doesn’t wane, but her eyes go wide as if she has remembered something. He quirks his head to the side as she motions him to wait one moment as she digs into a little pocket on her suit (how she has a pocket, he has no idea).

“I almost forgot,” she tells him as she finally turns her attention to him again. She’s holding something in the palm of her hand. “That’s why I wanted you to slow down earlier.”

“That you’re madly in love with me?” he jests with a flirtatious smirk.

She clicks her tongue and that’s all the scolding he receives as she holds out her hand, revealing a little purple…scarf?…in the her palm. “I like to knit occasionally and I made this for your kwami.”

For once, the great Chat Noir is speechless and he just feels like Adrien as he stands on this rooftop, “You–you–” he stammers, but no coherent sentence will come out.

At his silence, Ladybug looks worried, her unusual nerves showing as she softly asks him, “Was that okay? My kwami–Tikki–she gets really cold sometimes…”   

Chat finally remembers how to speak, his heart so full of warmth and adoration for this young woman in front of him. “Are you kidding?” he starts off as a whisper because he’s too touched to speak any louder. “Is this okay? This is–this is–that’s really thoughtful of you, Ladybug and I have no bravado to show you how happy I am right now,” he chuckles slightly.

Ladybug relaxes, her blue eyes glowing as she lets out a sigh of relief, “Well, I just wanted to, you know. He’s what makes you Chat after all so you can be with me.”

In that moment, both Chat Noir and Adrien Agreste fall in love with Ladybug again.

* * *

 

When she sees him pop out from the rubble, healthy and alive, Ladybug lets go of the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Plagg told me to tell you tell that he likes the scarf,” he shouts as passes her as he jumps towards the akuma.

Ladybug bites her tongue and tries not to roll her eyes.  _That’s so like him_ , she thinks,  _to be saying silly things during a figh_ t before chasing after him.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Chat taunts the possessed pastry chef, “You’re desserts just aren’t  _purr_ -fect enough!”

To that, Ladybug does roll her eyes, wishing that there could be one battle where Chat didn’t have to use lame cat puns. But another part of her knows that Chat not making puns is the same as Chat not being a flirt. A flirtless and punless Chat is not Chat at all in her eyes, and though she would never tell him, she wouldn’t trade him for the world.

But the battle comes to a close with a successful Lucky Charm and Healing Light that cleanses not only the chef’s heart, but also the city from the damages.

Her earrings are beeping when he saunters on over to her, proud and delighted over another successful victory. “So, you have to admit I was pretty cool when I basically skydived and used my Ancient Destruction on that chocolate beam!”

Her reply is quick, like the growing sounds of her transformation wearing off, “It would be awesome if you could be more careful with your tricks,” she lectures.

Chat throws his arms in the air, “Oh come on! I must have looked so cool jumping off that building and destroying that whole tower with one swipe of my claw!” He leans forward and inches his face into hers, “Just admit it, my lady.”

His eyes are suggestive as he looks up at her, but are half covered by his golden hair. She wants to brush his stupid hair out of his eyes, but even between them, she knows that that is too much. Pushing his forehead away with the palm of her hand, she presses her lips together. “The only thing I’m going to admit, Kitty Cat, is I want you to be more careful.” She lets down her guard for a moment, just so he can see that she really was worried, but she can’t look him in the eye. “For my sake.”

She hears him take an intake of breath and the air between them is filled with tension, of things that neither of them can talk about just yet. For a moment, they both stand there, the few feet between them feeling like they are miles apart, when both of their miraculous stones are beeping in tandem, rushing them to go home.

She’s the first one to break the silence, her voice stiff as she calls to him over her shoulder, “Just keep that in mind, okay?”

She jumps off the building before she can hear his reply.

* * *

 

“Adrien…” Plagg whines from his inner shirt pocket. “…food…”

But Adrien doesn’t hear him as he continues to walk, his mind muddled with thoughts as he replays the last time he saw Ladybug in his again for the umpteenth time.

_For my sake._

_Just keep that in mind, okay?_

The scene is on repeat in his memories, the way she didn’t look at him as she said those words, the sight of her back disappearing as she faded from view. He doesn’t know why he’s so upset or angry, but he is. Her words and her plea crossing the line that she has firmly placed between them: never cross this.

He knows that she cares about him, he knows that they are friends, but those words did not seem so friendly, they seemed so other, so–he doesn’t even know how to describe it because it was all too surreal and intense to even process.

Maybe it’s because it seems like she had insinuated that he didn’t care about her or her friendship. Or maybe, her words almost felt like a slap in the face because it was almost like she said that he doesn’t think about her at all.

 _Yes_ , he decides, _she made it seem like I don’t think about her at all_. Which if she actually knew, both personas and all, she would know without a doubt that she’s all that he ever thinks about.

But it is a pinch and the  _Oi! Kid!_  that snaps him out of his tremendous thoughts as he looks down at Plagg with a glare.

“What?” he snaps, his words biting, his heart drumming in his ears.

Plagg, though, narrows his eyes and bares little cat fangs. “Listen, kid. I’m done with you brooding about Ladybug. I’m freaking hungry.”

Adrien groans and runs a hand through his hair before sulking off to find some place with cheese and enters the first establishment that looks that it sells food he sees. Without regards to reading the sign, he roughly opens the door and is promptly hit by the smell of fresh breads and cakes, his sour mood sweetening almost instantly. To his right, he sees a tray and picks it up, walking slowly in front of the array of shelves, each covered with different kinds of buns, cookies, and cakes. He forgets his anger as his stomach rumbles and he too realized he hasn’t really eaten in awhile.

 _I’m sorry, Plagg_ , he thinks, _I’ll make this up to you._

Taking his time, he fills the tray with as many cheese breads for Plagg as he can, staking them carefully so that they will not fall. He gets a few meat breads for himself and some sweet cakes to eat later tonight too. After going through the shelves twice–maybe  _three_  times–he concedes that the tray might be heavy enough as is he heads over to the counter, but sees no one in sight. Placing the tray down, he sees that there is a bell with a little sign that reads: please ring if no one is at the counter! :)

Well, he can’t really say no to a cute little smiley so he rings the bell twice for good measure and patiently waits for someone to ring up his order. A voice shouts from the back that they’ll be out in a second and he hears an oven door slam close.

He’s playing with his phone when the worker greets him, “Sorry for the wait! I needed to get the–” but they stop mid sentence.

Confused, Adrien looks up and sees Marinette carrying a basket full of fresh bread, covered head to toe in flour, her cheeks bright red as she stares at him.

The silence ticks between them and Adrien offers a meek smile and a little wave, “Um…hi?”

His small greeting must have broken her out her stupor because Marinette shakes her head before walking up to the counter and settling the basket it there. “Sorry,” she says with a flushed face, “It’s been a crazy day and I’m just really tired.”

Taking in the sight before him, Adrien has to admit that she looks really cute, a smudge of flour on her cheek and all over apron. He’s always know that she’s a sweet girl, but she really fits the image as a baker. “Did you get in a fight with the bag of flour?” he jokes.

“What–” she spurts. “Um, uh. No!—it just kinda…” she trails, twisting her fingers in her hands.

He’s always wondered if she knows how extreme her facial expressions are when she talks, always changing by the second. It’s one of the reasons he likes talking to her. Marinette is just so interesting.“It just kinda…?”

She looks down, her hands clasped behind her back. “…it kinda just fell on me.”

Adrien tries to muffle his laugh, but he doesn’t do a good job when Marinette makes a mortified face, the tips of her ears red and bright. He tries to breathe, to take calming breaths. ‘I’m sorry,” he offers. “That was rude of me. I just–I’ve just have had a bad day as well.”

Her blue eyes drift down to the tray and she grins a little. “Is that why you’re eating your feelings away?”

Now it is his turn to blush and he can feel Plagg snigger in his pocket. “No!” he affirms. “No…I’m sharing these with a friend.”

Her face is less red now and he realizes that this is the first time that she’s really been relaxed with him, not constantly a bundle of nerves.  _She’d make an amazing friend_ , he thinks. But because he’s lost in thought, he doesn’t hear her question.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Marinette’s eyes go wide and she plays with an apron string. “Oh, nevermind–that was rude of me.”

“Wait, no. I just didn’t hear you,” he tells her with an easy smile.

“Oh,” she says with a bob, almost as if slightly embarrassed that she thought he would be upset. “Um, I asked if you wanted to…talk…about…it?” she questions so quietly he just about doesn’t hear it.

That was not what he was expecting from Marinette, shy Marinette who alway jumbles her words, stuttering and stammering when they speak. But he knows that she’s extremely caring and loves to help others, the stitch in his sleeve is proof of that. He contemplates for a moment though because though she is kind, he doesn’t know her that way–not like Ladybug or Nino know him…

…but maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing. He did just think that she’d make an amazing and the first step to deepening any friendship is to open up to them. So, before he second guess himself, he rushes out the words. “I’m a little mad a friend right now because I feel like she thinks I don’t think about her.”

Marinette cocks her head to the side a little and asks her question without speaking a beat. “Well, do you?”

He purses his lips together. “Do I what?”

She takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling, her hands fidgeting on the counter, moving objects around. “Like, do you really think about her? Because…” she trails off for a second, but continues. “I recently got mad at a friend because I felt like he was being too reckless,” she admits softly, her eyes looking around everywhere but at him.

Absentmindedly, he taps the counter, his own personal fidget. “And being reckless is not thinking about you?”

She makes a noise from the back of her throat and she becomes visibly irritated. “Well, kinda. I want him to be safe because I care about him a lot.” With a huff, she bites out, “When he does stupid things and shows off, I feel like he doesn’t think about how I would react if he gets hurt.”

And it finally clicks and the anger that was banging in the back of his mind dissipates at Marinette’s enlightening confession.    

“Huh,” he says finally, feeling silly he didn’t see that right away. “I didn’t think about it like that.”

 _Ladybug just really, really cares about me_ , he concludes and his heart feels warm again, filling to the brim at that realization.

With a grin, he adds, “I guess your friend and I are a lot alike.”

To that, Marinette giggles, wiping her hands on her apron, her cheeks tinged pink. “Oh, I hope not. He’s terrible.”

Adrien chuckles, feeling lighter than when he entered. “If you say so, but thanks for being a good friend, Marinette. This was really helpful.”

And he has to admit, the way she smiles at him has to be one of the cutest things he has ever seen.

“Any-anytime, Adrien.”


End file.
